


I Know What You Did Last Night

by abbeytre3



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: M/M, for michael, happens during halloween, oooh its a mystery, what if rich didnt burn down the house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeytre3/pseuds/abbeytre3
Summary: Everyone seems to know what happened Halloween night, except for Michael.





	1. And this is the beginning

The last thing Michael remembered was downing three shots of dubious content, hearing two girls scream, and then the floor rising up to meet his face.

 

The next thing that Michael is conscious for, is for a headache so intense that he wondered if him and Jeremy attempted to mix shitty beer with weed again. Then he evaluated, that no, that can’t be it, Jeremy abandoned him to have a panic attack in a bathroom so that he could go play at being _cool._ Which lead to… here somehow. Cracking open one crusty eye, and immediately shutting it again, _god_ that sun is way too bright, Michael hazily worked through what he had gleaned, trying to think around the man digging into his brain with a rusty spoon.

He was in a bedroom. Check. Well that could mean almost anything. Even as an introverted teenager whose has no party experience, he knows that people can just pass out wherever they please at parties. It was practically a staple.

Michael almost resigned himself to opening his eyes again, _but slower_ , when the bed shifted. And _aw hell no_ , that better mean that he kidnapped the dog of the house to cuddle with, _that’s definitely something drunk him would do_ , because if there’s a person with him he swears to Jebus!

Michael took a deep breath through his mouth and, oh god even his tongue tasted like ass. How was it possible for him to be completely fine and fuck himself up this much in a few hours!

Okay, okay okay okay okay. Check the essentials. Shirt, ch-oh shit. Not check! Shirt is not check! Pants at least, that should be a— Michael felt a leg that was thrown over his own twitch… Not Check! Definitely not check! Boxers are on! Boxers are on! Thank you lord!

Before he began hyperventilating, Michael carefully opened his eyes and stared at the beautifully painted ceiling. Really, not a brush stroke to be seen. And then tilted his head to oooooooooh myyyyyy gooooood. His glasses were somewhere but even he was positive that the two bodies in bed with him were female. _Two_! _Female_!

He was gay. He knew he was gay. Even if he got completely trashed Michael expected maybe worst case scenario to be waking up with a dude to forget about his best friend and longtime love leaving him.

But no! Apparently drunk Michael had to go and get all straight on him!

The brunet head full of long luscious waves that he had been staring intently at turned and Michael was suddenly making eye contact, and body contact with if he was honest, they were pretty much cuddling, with Chloe _fuckin’_ Valentine.

She yawned and Michael was hit in the face with her own beer breath. Looking up through her lashes, Chloe smiled softly and whispered, “Good morning Mikey.”

He stuttered, “I-it’s Michael actually.”

An arm that was thrown over his chest tightened and Brooke Lohst, Jeremy’s girlfriend, popped her head on his shoulder to join the conversation, “That’s not what you told us last night.”

His brain, which was only working at one cylinder to begin with, slammed into a wall and stopped thinking, “I um what? Listen we didn’t? ‘Cus I’m not? Um?”

Chloe patted his chest in what he though was supposed to be a comforting maneuver. She yawned again, “No stupid. You’re like.” She stopped to think of a word, “You’re like painfully gay. And attached to that loser Jeremy.”

Brooke hummed, “And like I don’t even mind that you’re in love with my boyfriend. Wait,” She tilted her head, “I don’t think he’s my boyfriend anymore. Not after he slept with Chloe and refused to sleep with me.”

Chloe gasped, “He didn’t sleep with you? He didn’t sleep with me!”

The girls exclaimed their everlasting vows of sisterhood while clutching onto Michael and needless to say he was feeling very uncomfortable with it all.

The little man inside his brain punctuated his distress with a particularly hard spoon jab and Michael moaned, “Can I just go home?”

The girls disengaged from him and Chloe found his glasses on the side table, “Of course. But don’t you dare ignore us at school!” She kissed his cheek and Brooke did the same, “I had a lovely time Mikey, drive safe.”

They giggled from the bed as Michael struggled into his pants and ignored his shirt, just pulling on his sweatshirt instead, vowing to never think of this night again. The sudden change from the bed to the floor was not helping his gag reflux, and he knew he’d be lucky to make it home without puking or crashing into a tree. He probably would have been better off asking someone to drive him home, but everyone was in the same state as him, and anyways, who would care?

 

The weekend was spent uneventfully, mostly chugging mountain dew and recovering in the darkness of his basement.

However, he was awoken on Monday morning to a flurry of texts, which was unusual, to say the least. Michael wasn’t aware that anyone outside of his small bubble even had his number. And they all had such confusing names?

_WhoRunsTheWorld_ and _Girls_ both sent him texts wishing him a good weekend and were hopeful to see him at school. While _NerdBGone_ just said, _thanks, sorry_. The other thirteen texts were from unknown numbers, just saying congratulations in different ways.

None of which was helpful to help solve what happened during his blackout at the party. Maybe they just moved all the blackout drunk people into one room? Which still left a lot to the imagination, but as long as he didn’t do anything colossally stupid, he should be fine. It’s not like anyone knew who he was so he probably wouldn’t get anything more than being shoved into a locker. Though, the amount and content of the texts did make him, nervous. Slightly. Maybe queasy. Not quite dreading school, but if a pit were to open up beneath him he wouldn’t say no.

 

Entering school, was an experience. The first time a hulking football player came at him, Michael tensed already prepared to minimize the locker damage, when all he got was a friendly slap on the back. Friendly, coming from a muscled behemoth. It was going to bruise.

This happened three more times and Michael was wondering what happened to a merciful god, when he was flanked by the girls from the party. But, you know, with clothes on this time. Brooke gave him a toothy grin and poked his ‘Rise against Racism’ patch.

“I like your patch Mikey. Maybe you could get me a matching one? My backpack looks kind of empty.”

Chloe swiped a stray hair out of his eyes and pursed her lips, “We should take you shopping. Spencer’s totally has a sale going on right now and I bet we can find something you love.”

They made their way down the hallway, followed by whispers that thought they were quiet, “I told you.”

“Dude’s got game.”

“I can’t believe you were telling the truth!”

“Where’s Jenna?”

Michael was so distracted by the disjointed rumors floating around that he jumped when Rich slid in front of them, “Hey Michael! What’s up buddy?”

Rich had a lisp now, which puzzled Michael more than anything. Them being… friendly could be attributed to his blackout, but a lisp doesn’t just suddenly appear?

Rich narrowed his eyes then shrugged at Michael’s lack of response and repositioned to Brooke’s side, “What’s up Brookey! You look so much better in that cardigan than whatever you were wearing to impress that loser!”

Brooke raised an eyebrow, “Uh thanks Rich. Someone give you a happy pill today?”

He laughed, “Nope, just took one away! Crazy party right?! Oh there’s Jake, see you later guys!” Rich took off running, shouting “JAKEY D!” and crash landing into the taller boy.

Michael shook his head. Everyone was going crazy and he had a feeling it was all to do with whatever happened on Halloween.


	2. Don't Doubt the Power of the Dew

 

Once class was let out for lunch, Michael was once again swept up in the popular crowd and ushered to their table as they all animatedly talked to one another. Michael sat gingerly and craned his neck around the cafeteria. Where was Jeremy? Didn’t he hang out with the _cool_ crowd now?

Brooke tugged on his arm, drawing his attention back to her and he asked, “What did happen on Halloween? Everyone’s acting so… differently?”

She shrugged and sipped at her soda, “I mean? I’m not really sure. Between the whisky and the tears I was pretty out of it. I talked to Jenna and then I remember having a heart to heart with you and then Chloe came in sometime. It’s kinda a blur, but you’ve proven to be pretty chill. So you don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah we’ll take care of you now.” Chloe interjected. She turned to Brooke, “And like same? Somehow talking to Jenna ended up with us having a slumber party. I don’t remember her pounding back drinks as fast as us so she probably knows the whole story.”

“Where is Jenna?” Michael asked. Could that be what part of the whispers were about?

“Huh I don’t know. Haven’t seen her all day.” Chloe put her head down and her fingers were flying across her keyboard, furiously texting someone, “She hasn’t responded to her texts all weekend or today.”

“That’s totally unlike her” Brooke sounded concerned and if the way her grip tightened on Michael’s sweatshirt was any indication, it was genuine.

Chloe offhandedly responded, “I know right”

He listened distractedly to the chatter of the table, Jenna still not responding, Rich listing the evils of green Mountain Dew, and _there_. A flash of blue rounded out of the cafeteria and Michael would recognize that dorky run anywhere. Jeremy was distressed. And honestly fuck him after all he put Michael through, but he was still going to be a best friend damnit, even if Jeremy didn’t want one.

Michael stood up suddenly and made to head out, but Rich called out, “Going somewhere?”

Michael looked wistfully at the open door, “Yah, I have to, even if—even after, he might need me you know?”

Rich nodded, “I don’t really know what you see in him dude, but go for it.” He dug in his bag, “But hey, try some of this first, good luck charm ey?”

Eyeing the bottle of Mountain Dew Red Michael gaped as he recognized it, “You! How! It works?”

Rich grinned, “Yah dude! And hey, if you’re going to speak to your boytoy or whatever, try full sentences. It’ll go a ton smoother.” Rich offered the bottle once more, and with a shaking hand Michael chugged a few swallows. He might not have a Squip in the brain, but the shot of caffeine might get him through having his heart ripped out for a second time.

Seeing that lunch period was half over, Michael sprinted out the doors, down the hallway, and into the ninth grader’s male restroom. No one, not even the tiny ninth graders wanted to use this one, as it was where porcelain structures went to die. It had been to go to breakdown area for the two of them for years, after every punch from a bully, every audio cassette smashed, every flub with Christine.

And sure enough, Jeremy was huddled in the corner under the last grimy sink, hiccupping back tears and burring his sobbing breathes into his folded arms. Michael crawled under with him and sat shoulder to shoulder with the boy.

“Hey dude?” Michael breathed out.

As soon as the words left Michael’s lips Jeremy shrunk back, curling in on himself more than he thought possible.

Jeremy’s head tilted and one of his bloodshot eyes stared back, “What?” came out in a broken word, his voice hoarse and Michael realized something, Jeremy was _drunk_.

One could blame it on all the crying but Michael knew better. Jeremy was self-critical in his best moods, but he was a sad drunk.  A crying pitiable one, who lamented the world and everything in it. Once he had enough alcohol in him, anything, from losing at Pac-Man to eating the last Dorito would set him off into a sniffle fit. Usually Michael would pull him close and let Jeremy whine until he was out of energy and snuggle up with him, falling asleep peacefully but one, Michael was _tired_ , and not prepared to deal with this today, and two, _they were at school_.

So instead Michael slung an arm around Jeremy best he could in these cramped quarters, and brushed the hair back off of Jeremy’s sweaty forehead gently, he whispered, “What Squip has your tongue today? Don’t have any more creative insults to hurl around?”

Okay, so that was vindictive. And mean. But Michael was in a vindictive and mean mood today. Sort of what happens when his best friend tries to sever ties and push him away, only when in time of need clutch onto him and attempt to mold into him underneath the oldest sinks in the school.

Jeremy shoved his face into Michael’s neck and he made out through the barrier of fabric, “Can’t Squip when I’m drunk. Ooh he’s mad. I’m gonna stay drunk forever.”

Michael absent mindedly petted Jeremy’s hair, musing over that new tidbit of information, “And why is he so mad?”

“You’re soo popular. And you don’t even have a Squip! You and your girlfriends. No place for sad nerdy Jeremy now. Plans ruined.” Jeremy whisper into Michael’s ear, making him shudder, “He’s a mean useless old Squip anyways.” A spasm wracked through his body and he sobbed, “Everything about me is so terrible. Everything about me makes me want to die.”

Michael froze, he didn’t think, that well, is this what that damn computer’s been telling him this whole time?! Shifting, Michael dislodged Jeremy from his side but not the boy’s death grip on the front of his sweatshirt, and pulled Jeremy into his lap, hugging him. Michael needed an apology, he really did, but right now, Jeremy needed _him_ more.

“First off Jeremy. Brooke and Chloe are just my… friends. If they didn’t have a grudge against you, you might still have had a chance. And um, tell that to your Squip, he might lay off for a bit, yeah?” He tangled his hand in Jeremy’s hair as the boy’s eye’s shimmered, “And there’s always room for you. Always.”

Jeremy, the slippery drunk he was, shimmied in Michael’s lap to reach his arms around Michael and collapse fully onto him, which while nice, reminded Michael that he was dealing with a very smashed boy right now. Jeremy’s forehead wrinkled cutely in confusion, “But? You slept with them?”

“In the same bed yes. I’m gay Jeremy. Being drunk isn’t going to change that.”

Jeremy’s red eyes blew open and he stared open mouthed at Michael. “You never told me that!” And Jeremy, the sad, slippery, very tactile drunk, wobbled forward and slammed his lips to Michael’s.

As much as his left brain was screaming at him that, _this is wrong! He’s drunk! You’re taking advantage!_ , his right brain was losing it that this was finally happening! And it was not a fantastic kiss, it was rather sloppy and Jeremy was all over the place and Michael wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, sure he had imagined this before but it had never involved _hands_ , and then Jeremy opened his mouth and Michael’s mind went _blank_.

Jeremy licked his lips and Michael moaned, and …

Jeremy screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. So who knew all it took to break the Squip was some good old makin' out.   
> I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Mostly.


	3. Everyone's in on it?

 

As Michael was panicking, the door to the bathroom slammed open. Mr. Gorvencheski raced inside and as abruptly as the screaming began, it stopped. In a fit Jeremy had thrown himself backwards and now just lay on the tiled floor, twitching.

The teacher glared at Michael, “What are you waiting for, call someone, this is an emergency!”

“What, what?”

Mr. Gorvencheski knelt down to check Jeremy’s breathing and yelled, “Call 911, your ‘friend is having a seizure!”

With shaking hands Michael picked up his phone and dialed for help.

 

An ambulance ride, shock blanket, ER room, and a lifetime later, Michael was sitting by Jeremy’s bedside, waiting for his best(boy?) friend to wake up.

Hours passed and Michael’s phone battery was getting low, as was the nurses patience with him for his insistent fidgeting. He was ignoring the incoming texts, one from each new number in his log, on the hour every hour. He assumed they were ‘where are you’s’ worded in different ways.

A nurse was just approaching, presumably to bade him farewell for the night, when Jeremy’s eyes shot open and he vaulted upwards with half strangled gasp.

“Stay right there don’t move!” She called as she ran to get another person.

But Michael barely heard her, already throwing his arms around Jeremy, and mumbling repeatedly, “You’re okay. It’s gonna be alright. It’s okay.”

A weak hand grasped onto the back of Michael’s shirt attempting to pull him in closer. A barely there whisper, more of an exhale of words, that Michael could only make out because Jeremy was saying them into his ear, “I left you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “Save your words.” He never wanted Jeremy to stop talking. “Just rest.” If those eyes ever glazed over in mindless automation again Michael would just give up.

Jeremy pulled back slightly and looked Michael in the eyes, in a soft tone, “Give me your phone.”

Michael dazedly replied, “Okay.” Reaching for his half dead phone before, “Wait what?”

Jeremy waved his arms about as he explained, his voice hoarse but volume slowly climbing to normal speaking levels, “It’s just that, I got this text and I was wondering if you—never mind, you know what! I’ll just show you!” He fumbled around, shaking his head and motioning as if to get out of bed.

Michael panicked and tossed Jeremy’s phone at him, it being in Michael’s pocket for safekeeping, usually the first place Jeremy looked for missing items. The phone missed Jeremy’s uptrned hands and smacked him in the neck, causing a chocking fit.

Which is of course when the doctor entered. She saw Michael on the bed, and Jeremy cocking an immediately started scolding, “Now none of that. Get the frick back in that chair or you’ll be out of this hospital so fast your head will turn.” She turned to Jeremy, “See that red call button. If you abuse it I’m kicking your ass.”

Jeremy cheerfully replied, “Yes Dr. Hithro!”

And then Michael matched a face to a long talked about figure. Whenever Jeremy had asthma attacks, he would go see this mythical figure of strength and beauty and come to school the next day waxing poetry. Apparently that figure was a five foot two Asian woman who spit nails and had a full head of brilliant white hair, though was as spritely as a prizefighter.

The doctor gave Jeremy one last warning and turned to leave, giving Michael a glare, “And you! If I see you in such a state as last Friday, I will break my oath I swear to God.”

Then she was gone and Michael was perplexed. Adding it to his mental folder that was unfortunately growing bigger every minute of ‘What Happened on Halloween’, Michael switched focus to Jeremy, who was way more important.

“What were you trying to tell me earlier?”

Jeremy bit his tongue between his teeth in concentration as he scrolled through his chat log. Michael found it unbearably cute. “This!”

The phone was shoved in Michael’s face and he saw a received message from an unknown number, on the first of November, _I know what you did last night_.

“Huh” Michael pulled out his own phone only to have it snatched and unlocked by Jeremy. The boy let out a triumphant cry and handed the phone back to Michael. On the screen, at the same date and time, was the same message.

“Well this is… strange.”

Jeremy nervously hiccupped, “Yeah not as strange as dreaming about us making out in a school bathroom. Right dude? No homo.” He moaned. “Oh shit they have me on the good stuff.” He buried his head in his hands, peaking out through his fingers, “Seriously no homo though.”

Michael pried his hands away and laid a soft featherlight kiss on Jeremy’s nose, “Can’t no homo your way out of this one. Yes homo. One hundred percent homo.”

Jeremy stared at him and seemed to physically melt. His face blushing furiously as the tension flowed out of his body, Jeremy closed the distance and kissed Michael on the lips. Michael pulled back for a second, “You’re not going to scream if I do this right?”

In response Jeremy tugged him closer and pulled on Michael’s hair. Michael gasped at the sensation and Jeremy took it as invitation to deepen the kiss.

“Now you stop that!” Dr. Hithro was back, and pissed that Michael had not followed her instructions to get off of the bed, and consequently, off of Jeremy. He didn’t think that he wanted to move for a very long time, but as her fingers twitched near the call button threatenly, he reluctantly extracted himself from Jeremy’s grip and settled on the far less inviting metal beside chair.

As she started pulling up medical sheets Jeremy leaned over and whispered, “So where do we go from here?”

Michael grinned, “A date, I’m thinking? Using up the last of my good weed probably.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes and pointed at the phones, “With the text messages I mean. Of course we’re going on a date, duh. I need to get more of that sweet sweet Michael action.”

Wow Jeremy was unexpectedly smooth, “Are you still doped up?”

“Yes he is,” Interrupted the doctor, “And he can go as long as he has someone watching over him, who I assume will be you Mr. Mell.” She gave him a stack of papers, “And none of ‘the good stuff’ until he’s completely sober if you can help it.”

 

And so Jeremy ended up snuggled under a pile of worn but comfy blankets in Michael’s basement, a documentary about dolphins playing in the background. The boy’s eyes were drooping from the medicine wearing off and he was not so much leaning up against Michael as on top of him falling asleep. Not that Michael minded. He placed his arms on top of the best boy-friend bundle so that he could text and opened up a group chat without reading the previous texts. He could bet what they said anyways.

_WhoRunsTheWorld_ and _Girls_ texted back immediately, sharing that they also had received cryptic text messages, but that they knew whose number it came from. Apparently, Jenna Rolan could send crazy text messages but not show up at school. _NerdBGone_ and someone they had added to the chat had also received the message, and _absolutely no one had a full picture of the night_. Or knew Dr. Hithro apparently, though _NerdBGone_ had a vague recollection of a lady with white hair yelling at him.

The group chat signed off for the night with a _Let’s meet up tomorrow and figure this shit out_.


End file.
